


Head Lice, Gasoline and Hostess Products

by jsymo



Series: Breifs [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:28:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2379920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jsymo/pseuds/jsymo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes staying in crummy motel rooms can really be a pain in the...head?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Head Lice, Gasoline and Hostess Products

They had to make a pit stop. Well, the necessity of their stopping could have possibly come into question, but as far as Sam was concerned they had to stop. Before the last state line they crossed he could ignore it if he tried hard enough, but the last time Sam scratched his head his fingernails came away with white folds of skin caked under his nails and smeared with blood that he hastily wiped on his jeans. 

“Dean,” he said looking to his brother and putting on his best puppy dog eyes he could manage, “can we stop at a motel for the night?” 

“Dude, we’re still three states away; we can stop when we hit Omaha.”

Sam shifted in his seat; he was getting really uncomfortable and his head felt like it was burning.

“Dean, I really need to stop at a motel tonight.”

He sighed and looked over to Sam, his head was resting on his hand, arm propped up on his elbow like he was bored of driving, bored of the endless cornfields that Iowa had to offer, bored of the constant Zeppelin that poured out of the radio.

“And why do you really need to stop at a motel tonight?”

“I think there’s something wrong with my head,” Sam said and then quickly tacked a “shut up,” onto the end to cut off Dean’s retort.

“Other than the obvious, what’s wrong with your head?”

“S’been itching since a few hours after we checked outta the last motel,” a heavy sigh, “I think I got something.”

“Got something? What the hell could you get in Indiana other than bored?” he snorted.

“Seriously, can you just pull the damn car over?”

“And what? Comb your ass for lice?”

“Well, not my ass…”, Sam corrected bitterly.

Dean started to incoherently grumble, as if Sam were the one to blame for this unexpected problem.

They drove until they got to a 24 hour pharmacy, one of those old ones where they used to sell root beer floats back in the day.

“Stay in the car, I’ll be right back,” he huffed before heaving himself out the door.

Sam sat in the passenger seat, feeling better despite the fact that his skull was burning only because he knew that relief for the constant itching was coming to an end.

Dean came out some time later, a few plastic grocery bags in hand, and drove them to another nondescript motel.

Once in their room Dean dropped his stuff on the bed closest to the door and instructed Sam to the bathroom before he had a chance to settle.

“Shirt off,” he commanded in a tone that Sam instinctively listened to. 

Sam whipped off his shirt just in time for Dean to place his hand on Sam’s shoulder and bend him over the lip of the bathtub. Dean was running the water and scrubbing Sam’s hair with anti-lice shampoo that he had picked up while Sam was stuck staring straight at the dirty water ring that ran around the bathtub.

Dean was soon rinsing his brother’s lengthy chestnut locks and throwing a bath towel over Sam so he could finish drying up.

Sam stood and tousled at his hair and turned to watch Dean walk back into the bedroom, embarrassed about his next question.

“Dean?” he stepped into the room hesitantly as Dean riffled through one of the plastic grocery bags, “you don’t think that lice can – can like,” he could feel my face heating up, “like get down there do you?”

Dean straightened up and tossed a few objects Sam’s direction.

Sam dropped his towel and caught two things Dean had thrown. A razor and a can of shaving cream. 

“You think this will help?” 

He shrugged, “dunno, I’ll be right back, need to pick up a few things.”

Face red and heated in his embarrassment spurring Sam locked himself in the bathroom to complete his task.

Dean was in the room when Sam came out, sitting cross-legged on the bed flipping through a magazine.

He spared a glance Sam’s my direction.

“Shaving cream,” he said absently, motioning to the hem Sam’s pants.

“Thanks,” he bent over to wipe the white substance away.

“You have cream on your face,” Sam said sitting down on his bed facing Dean’s.

Dean thumbed at the white frosting on his lip before diving into the opened box of Hostess Twinkies sitting beside him.

“Is that – why do I smell gasoline?”

Sam turned about the room trying to find the source.

Dean only let an amused grin break his face.

“No.”

“What?”’

“Dude, no.”

“Hey, I’d rather burn your duffle flat out then deal with getting lice all up in baby’s upholstery.”

Sam scowled and watched Dean fish another Twinkie out of the box. 

“So how smooth did you get down there huh?” Dean said absently, stuffing an entire cake into his mouth.

“Really Dean?”

“Wha’?” his brother replied, his tone thick around the food in his mouth.

“I tell you that I think I picked up lice from our last motel and your mind still goes to sex?”

Dean looked up at Sam, his mouth pouted and his eyes flat and bored.

“What?”

“Take off your pants.”

“No.”

“C’mon Sam, I want to inspect the goods, make sure I still approve.”

Sam scoffed, “I really don’t think there’s anything I could do to disinterest you from my dick.”

Dean shrugged, eyes back on the magazine.

“I’ve got pretty used to your pubes man; I don’t know how I’ll feel about sleeping with ‘baby balls Sammy’.”

“That’s real mature Dean.”

“Just take off your pants dude.”

Sam sighed, but stood up from his bed and undid his belt and zipper and shucked his pants down to his knees.

Dean stared – his face almost bored – at Sam’s flaccid and smooth member.

“And?”

“Meh,” Dean’s lips pulled down in a frown as he went back to the magazine, flipping a page.

“What?” Sam stared down at his penis and maneuvered it around with his hand to check it out from different angles. “I think it looks pretty nice,” Sam murmured.

“Pfft, Oh-kay,” Dean laughed.

Sam had a hurt look on his face.

“What’s wrong with my dick?”

“I – I dunno Sam,” Dean closed his magazine, “it’s already weird enough to be sleeping with a man, and my brother at that. Do you have to emphasize the weirdness by making your dick look like it belongs to a twelve-year-old boy?”

“Twelve?” Sam’s eyes bugged, “this,” Sam took his penis in hand, “does _not_ look like it belongs to a twelve year old! What twelve year-old has a dick this big?”

“I did,” Dean said as he lazily flipped through his magazine and dug out another Twinkie.

Sam roughly pulled up and secured his pants and eyed the box of Twinkies that Dean was eating out of. He saved one of them from meeting the fate of Dean’s mouth – for the moment – and went back into the bathroom where he left the shaving cream on the counter.

He locked the door and leaned up against the sink, digging the cream filling out with his pinky before shaking up the can of shaving cream and refilling the cavern he had made.

Sam then walked out into the room and glanced over to Dean where a sizable amount of wrappers littered the bed.

He only had to wait for a moment.

“Aww,” Dean pouted from the bed behind Sam.

“What?”

“M’outta Twinkies.”

Sam turned slowly, holding the last Twinkie up in his hand.

“Sam?”

“Yes?”

“You really gonna eat that?”

Sam put on a face as if he was considering it.

“Nah, you can have it,” Sam said throwing the tailored cake over to Dean who caught it, bright smile on his face.

“Thanks man,” Dean looked happy and held the hand with the cake up as he readied to eat it.

“No problem,” Sam said leaning back on his bed to enjoy the show.

Was it Dean’s fault that Sam had lice? No. But if Dean was set on burning Sam’s clothes, then damnit he was going to enjoy himself first. 

 

Dean brought the cake up to his mouth and opened his lips.

Sam brought his pillow out in front of him to defend himself against the eventual attack.

Dean chomped down and a second later the pleasure left his eyes and was replaced with anger and shock.

“Sam!”


End file.
